


The Art of Abiding

by boonies



Category: Dong Bang Shin Ki, JYJ - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-19 07:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boonies/pseuds/boonies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DBSK reunites as five. Changmin's not happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Abiding

*

 

It's not really a reunion.

 

It's more of a _you are now legally permitted to communicate in public should the need arise_.

 

The moment the attorneys notarize the settlement and Changmin initials the last little blank space, Yunho grabs for the phone.

 

Changmin closes his fingers over Yunho's. "What are you doing?"

 

Yunho raises both eyebrows. "I'm gonna say hi?"

 

Changmin's expression is guarded. His nails dig into Yunho's fingers. "Right away?"

 

Yunho frowns, confused.

 

Slowly, Changmin lets go of his hand. "Whatever."

 

And then he gets up, chair scraping against the rug, and leaves the room.

 

Yunho can't call by himself.

 

*

 

His phone goes off at 2:21 AM.

 

Yunho reaches out a hand, swatting at his dresser until the phone fits into his hand. He squints at the unfamiliar number, eyes burning, and grunts out a sleepy, "Who died."

 

There's a moment of silence and then a soft, "Hey."

 

Yunho's sitting up, fully awake, in an instant.

 

His heart jumps to his throat and he feels like throwing up and laughing at the same time, so he says, "Why are you still up."

 

Yoochun snorts softly, breath catching. "Sorry, didn't know I'd dialed my dad."

 

Yunho's heart hurts so much he can't even say _I'm sorry about your dad_ or _how are you_ or _fuck,_ _please be okay_ , so he says, voice breaking, "Are you eating."

 

Yoochun's voice catches. "Yeah."

 

Yunho lies back down, wiping at his eyes with one palm. "Are you taking vitamins."

 

"Yeah."

 

"Are you—"

 

"Yeah, I'm okay." There's an uncertain pause, and then Yoochun says, voice trembling. "Are you?"

 

Yunho exhales.

 

*

 

"Yah, we gotta leave in four minutes," Changmin is shouting from the kitchen, rice sticking to his lips. "If you don't hurry up, I'll eat everyt—"

 

Yunho pads closer.

 

"What the fuck happened to you," Changmin says, frozen at the kitchen sink.

 

Yunho glances at the steaming bowl of rice, at the spatula in Changmin's hand, catches his own reflection in a glass cabinet, sees the dark circles under his eyes, and breaks into a satisfied smile.

 

"I talked to Yoochunnie."

 

Changmin pales.

 

Meticulously, he turns around and lowers the spatula into the sink. "And?"

 

Yunho grabs for his bowl, ravenous. He doesn't even bother with chopsticks, just tilts the rice straight into his mouth, making a mess.

 

"We're gonna meet up today," he babbles around the food, "after you and me get done at MBC—"

 

"I'm not going," Changmin says, starting for the hallway.

 

Yunho pauses, puzzled.

 

"I have something to do," Changmin shrugs, puts on his shoes, and leaves the apartment.

 

*

 

Yunho hasn't felt this nervous since debuting.

 

He's tapping his fingers on his knees, the table, the coffee mug, practically the waitress, and then there's a tap on his shoulder and Yoochun's standing there, hair cropped short and an awkward Jaejoong peeking warily over his shoulder.

 

Yunho can't help it.

 

He laughs like an idiot, slumping on the table and burying his face in his arms.

 

"He's broken," Jaejoong tells Yoochun and Yunho thinks it's 2007 again or maybe 2004 and his heart is clenching painfully.

 

"He's just stupid," Yoochun says, smacking Yunho on the back and grabbing a chair next to him.

 

Yunho looks up to see Jaejoong claim a seat next to Yoochun and then they're staring at him like a mismatched pair of twins, kinda soaking him in.

 

Yunho can't breathe properly.

 

"Your dad..." he starts but Yoochun says, "Your grandfather..." at the same time, and then a look passes between all three of them and Yunho just grins ruefully and lets Yoochun steal his coffee.

 

*

 

Yunho practically skips home.

 

He bursts through the door, all sunshine and rainbows, and floats through the living room, collapsing on the couch next to a brooding Changmin.

 

Happy, Yunho waits for Changmin to ask, but Changmin's dead quiet.

 

"So," Yunho says, "we—"

 

Changmin gets off the couch.

 

*

 

 

"I'm watching this thing," Jaejoong says into the phone, "and your acting just, really... it still really sucks."

 

Phone pressed between ear and shoulder, Yunho snorts, stirring the noodles. "Oh, I'm sorry," he says, "and how many acting awards have you won?"

 

Jaejoong sounds like he's pouting. "I'm still better than you. I mean. I saw Poseidon."

 

Yunho rolls his eyes, amused. The pot boils, soup spilling over. Shit, Changmin's gonna kill him.

 

"Let's just agree that we're at least better than Siwon," Yunho says, trying to clean up without accidentally killing himself.

 

"Even eggplants are better than Siwon."

 

Yunho can't quite follow that non-sequitur. "What?"

 

"I'm cooking," Jaejoong explains lazily. "It was the closest inanimate object."

 

Yunho smiles.

 

Changmin chooses that moment to walk in, headphones firmly on.

 

He takes one unimpressed look at the mess, hands in his pockets, and gestures with his chin, clearly waiting for an explanation.

 

_Jaejoong_ , Yunho mouths happily, indicating at the phone. _Wanna say hi?_

 

Changmin walks off.

 

*

 

 

Junsu's sulking.

 

His arms are crossed and he looks pissed and petulant and why did Yunho think this was a good idea.

 

"They told me I was meeting some model," Junsu accuses, eyes narrowed.

 

"I'm _a_ model," Yunho points out.

 

Exasperated, Junsu sighs. His fists are clenched and they're facing off in Jaejoong's apartment and Yunho just wants to wrap his arms around this pink-haired stupid child and not let go.

 

"You're gonna be bald by thirty," he hears himself say instead and then Junsu is snapping at him like a rabid baby turtle.

 

"I JUST LIKE VARIETY, OKAY," he shouts, desperately patting his frizz.

 

Yunho pulls him into a hug.

 

"It looks good," he murmurs into the bleached mess.

 

Junsu relaxes.

 

*

 

 

"They're finishing up an album," Yunho's chattering with interest, "so I was thinking—"

 

Changmin bangs his forehead against the car window. "I have a headache. Let's talk about this later."

 

Yunho's stomach flips. "Sure."

 

*

 

"Where's Changmin?" Jaejoong asks, swinging the door open.

 

Yunho enters the apartment, exhausted. "Not feeling well."

 

Suspicious, Jaejoong narrows his eyes. "He's pissed."

 

"Like a motherfuck," Yunho says, stumbling into the kitchen.

 

Yoochun looks up from his phone. "Is it 'cause of Junsu?" he asks. "It's because of Junsu, isn't it. Damn it, Junsu."

 

Junsu gives an indignant little huff but doesn't defend himself.

 

Yunho doesn't know what the fuck is wrong with Changmin. Yunho doesn't know anything lately, so he apologizes. "He just... needs time."

 

"He needs a beating," Jaejoong mumbles.

 

Yoochun shakes his head, amused. "Text him."

 

Jaejoong takes out his phone, as does Junsu.

 

A furious typing session later and Yunho's starting to feel anxious.

 

There's a nagging worry in the back of his head, a sliver of suspicion barely formed but growing.

 

Changmin doesn't text back.

 

*

 

Yunho corners him one night, right before bedtime.

 

"Alright," he demands, blocking Changmin from his bedroom with one arm. "What the hell, Changminnie?"

 

Changmin levels him with a blank look.

 

Frustrated, Yunho lowers his arm. "Please."

 

Changmin hesitates.

 

"Changmin," Yunho says earnestly, "they genuinely miss you. Why—"

 

Changmin burrows into him.

 

Startled, Yunho freezes.

 

Slowly, Changmin wraps his arms around Yunho, around his midsection, then lower, around his waist, and locks him into an embrace.

 

Yunho's brain shuts off.

 

"Do you know why I stayed," Changmin says quietly.

 

Yunho doesn't know what to do, except stand motionless.

 

"Why did I stay, hyung," Changmin murmurs into his shoulder.

 

Face burning, body numb, Yunho wants to say something, but this is one of a hundred questions Yunho has never asked.

 

Never will.

 

Wordlessly, Changmin lets go.

 

 

*

 

 

"What the hell have you been eating," Junsu complains. "Ladders?"

 

Changmin raises a smug eyebrow. "Did you actually _shrink_?"

 

Junsu bristles. "Did your ears finally get their own area code?"

 

Changmin grits his teeth. "How, when your ass is hogging all of them."

 

Yunho's grinning so hard his face hurts.

 

Next to him, Yoochun decides to intervene before the restaurant calls the media, or the cops, or a priest.

 

"Girls, girls," he tells them, sandwiched between the two at an overflowing table. "You're both pretty."

 

Jaejoong leans into his hand, sighing. "I should write you guys a power-ballad."

 

Yoochun nods. "A five-minute love duet."

 

Junsu and Changmin take a moment to glare like they're half made of lasers.

 

*

 

In the distance, their managers shake hands.

 

"That can't be good," Yunho comments.

 

Yoochun grins. "Probably negotiated a week of fanservice."

 

Amused, Yunho shakes his head. "I can smell the fanfiction already."

 

Yoochun clasps his shoulder affectionately, leaning closer to whisper, "~and as Jaejoong shyly placed his ~trembling hand on his dongsaeng's—"

 

"How many have you read," Yunho says, eyes sparkling.

 

 

*

 

It's just a small fan-meet, hastily planned and mostly disorganized.

 

But the crowd is overwhelming.

 

They take their seats, old formation in place.

 

Yunho notes it's still a clean split.

 

Changmin's still closer than he needs to be and Jaejoong is still secretly exchanging inappropriate comments with Yoochun. Junsu hovers on the edge.

 

It's familiar.

 

And too easy.

 

*

 

"That was weird," Yoochun notes once they're backstage.

 

"Yeah, no one asked anything embarrassing," Junsu agrees, slowing his step. "That's kinda messed up."

 

They pile into a large dressing room, and Yunho says, "They were probably warned not to."

 

"It felt creepy," Jaejoong says, rubbing up and down his arms as if to ward off evil spirits. "Like we stepped into a time machine."

 

Changmin snorts, sorting through the discarded coats and jackets for his own. "I bet you wish you had a time machine," he says, annoyance creeping into his tone, "so you could get rid of your wrinkles and get your abs back—"

 

"We can be _four_ rising gods of the east, right," Jaejoong asks, surreptitiously eyeing a chair.

 

Yunho coughs to hide a laugh.

 

Changmin turns around to glower at him.

 

Yoochun takes the opportunity to discretely separate Jaejoong from sharp objects.

 

"The only thing you've been raising," Changmin says, kind of cruelly, "is eyebrows."

 

Jaejoong cocks his head. "What?"

 

"Just," Changmin shrugs, nodding his chin at Junsu. "Even that one's going around kissing dudes now. What about our image—"

 

Junsu's cheeks darken, but only a little. "I have integrity as an actor, shut up."

 

Changmin rolls his eyes. "How is shoving your tongue down some guy's throat acting—"

 

"I DIDN'T SHOVE MY ANYTHING—" Junsu starts loudly. Paint peels off the ceiling, so he visibly tries to compose himself, becoming very prim and proper. "Whatever," he adds piously. "There's nothing wrong with kissing another guy."

 

Changmin's shoulders tense.

 

Yunho watches.

 

"Good to know, 'cause knowing our managers," Yoochun nods, mostly to himself, "they'll probably want some ~yunjae action soon."

 

Changmin's gaze drops to the coats.

 

And then he's stalking out of the room.

 

*

 

 

A text message wakes Yunho up at 4:19 AM.

 

_I don't want fanservice._

 

Yunho's head is muzzy and Changmin's text is confusing as fuck, so he approximates where what is on the keyboard and texts, _okay_.

 

He's falling back asleep when his phone beeps.

 

Irritated, he slides his thumb across the screen.

 

_Don't do fanservice with them._

 

A strange new sensation tugs at his gut.

 

He sobers and grips his phone with both hands, screen auto-rotating.

 

He starts typing, but then gets overwhelmed by a wave of anger.

 

What the hell does Changmin care. He hates doing fanservice with Yunho anyway. And this way, it'll at least free him up from the bullshit he bitches about constantly. _I don't want to do this_ or _why do we have to_ and _this is fucking gay_.

 

Yunho drafts a dozen replies.

 

He doesn't actually send any.

 

For fuck's sake, Changmin's one room over.

 

Why are they texting.

 

Determined and awake and very cranky, Yunho pulls a blanket around himself and barges into Changmin's bedroom.

 

He opens his mouth to argue but Changmin's sitting in bed, laptop on one side, phone on the other.

 

"Yunjae's the number one search on nate right now," he says as though he's not really aware he's speaking out loud.

 

"So?" Yunho says, suddenly feeling stupid standing in Changmin's room like this.

 

"We're not even on the list," Changmin says as though he's reading a phone book.

 

Yunho wants to go back to bed. He wants to sleep. He wants to sleep and wake up and go back to normal.

 

So he sits down on Changmin's bed. The mattress dips. The phone slides into Yunho.

 

"Your image," Changmin says but won't look at him. "I'm just worried about your image."

 

 

*

 

 

"I honestly didn't think the issue would be resolved until maybe, I don't know," Changmin tells the interviewer, "2067?"

 

The interviewer laughs.

 

Yunho's not sure it's a joke.

 

*

 

The first group dance practice is awkward.

 

They've decided to do a quick joint performance for charity, but.

 

The moves don't gel. Junsu's doing what is increasingly starting to look like striptease. He's grinding against an imaginary pole, thrusting his ass in a slow show of flexibility and Yunho's not really sure what the hell that is, but at least he's trying.

 

Unlike Yoochun.

 

"Need a five minute break for breathing," he says, tumbling to the ground next to the stereo.

 

Jaejoong collapses next to him, shutting the song off and producing two lollipops. "We take breathing breaks now."

 

Yunho and Changmin exchange a _what the fuck_ glance.

 

Junsu leans against a mirror, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "This is gonna take forever," he whines. "Why don't you two just incorporate some of your old choreo and we'll work around it."

 

Yunho thinks for a moment, then shrugs.

 

"It might be too difficult for... some of you," he smirks.

 

Yoochun flips him off.

 

"Okay," Yunho says, motioning to Junsu. "You'll probably learn fastest, so come here."

 

Junsu nods, professional mode on, and strides over, mirroring Yunho's stance.

 

Changmin's lips thin into an angry line.

 

"It's a basic one-two-one," Yunho explains, grabbing Junsu's arm and, out of habit, brings his hand to hover over Junsu's jaw.

 

Changmin's by their side in a heartbeat, pushing Junsu away.

 

"We can just show them," he tells Yunho.

 

It makes sense, but Yunho's pulse is suddenly spiking dangerously.

 

"It's track seven," Changmin says tightly, and over in the corner, Jaejoong skips four songs and hits play.

 

Familiar music drifts into the room, the bass bouncing off the wooden floor tiles, punching straight into Yunho's body.

 

Changmin meets his gaze.

 

Yunho moves.

 

Obedient to the beat, he strides forward. His right palm wraps around Changmin's hip, drawing him closer.

 

Changmin's body fits perfectly, just the right height and mass and force. He slides against Yunho in a well-practiced, beautiful arc. Their torsos line up, faces brushing, and then Changmin pushes him away violently.

 

He uses so much force that Yunho actually loses balance and goes sprawling on the floor.

 

"Who comes up with your choreography, seriously," Junsu laughs obnoxiously, holding out a hand.

 

Yunho accepts it, rising.

 

"Let's try that again," he tells Changmin darkly.

 

Changmin cocks his head, expression hard. "Sure."

 

Sucking on a lollipop, Jaejoong shrugs and cues up the music. "I kinda feel like Caesar."

 

Yoochun cracks up, fanning himself with a lollipop wrapper.

 

Yunho ignores them.

 

He gets into position again, body buzzing with restrained energy.

 

Changmin's equally charged up, all sharp, grim angles and annoyance.

 

Yunho twists and slips around him, reaching out to grab Changmin's waist. But Changmin beats him to it. He wraps a large hand around Yunho's hip and digs his nails in, hard. The other hand slides to his chest, clenching around the shirt, seams tearing.

 

Yunho's skin is burning.

 

"Um, that's not really appropriate for a charity concert," Junsu says, scratching the back of his neck.

 

Changmin's grip loosens.

 

And then he's gone.

 

Yunho stares at his back until the door swings shut behind him.

 

"Well," Jaejoong says awkwardly. "That was really... passive-aggressive."

 

Yoochun winces. "Mostly aggressive."

 

 

*

 

There's a massive bruise on Yunho's hip.

 

He examines his ass in the bathroom mirror, twisting for a better look. Yeah. It's not pretty.

 

It's probably from the fall, but there are small imprints, red and white, that look like Changmin's fingers.

 

"We should go drinking," Yoochun shouts over the hiss of water and steam, two shower stalls away.

 

Yunho nods.

 

*

 

Jaejoong's a human camel and Yoochun has the tolerance of a sea sponge.

 

Yunho can't keep up.

 

Neither can Junsu, since he's been passed out for close to an hour.

 

Changmin's slumped over him, breathing softly into Junsu's back, hair falling over his eyes.

 

"Shoulda gotten milk for the babies," Yoochun slurs, squinting at his phone. "Ten drinks and they're out."

 

Yunho sends a quick prayer for Yoochun's liver, then says, words un-wording, "Home we go."

 

Nonchalant, Jaejoong sips at his drink. "Yoochunnie, call them a ride."

 

"Trying," Yoochun says into his phone. "Car." The phone beeps, pulling up a menu. "Uh. Home ride. Rider. _House_."

 

Jaejoong snorts, leaning to scream into the phone, "Alcoholics collection services!"

 

The phone shuts off.

 

Yunho watches them.

 

His fingers instinctively curl around Changmin's wrist.

 

"Car now, pick up," Yoochun tells his dead phone, then tosses it to the floor. "Fuck. These things are the worst."

 

"You can crash here," Jaejoong yawns, rising on wobbly feet and stumbling towards his bedroom.

 

He comes back, swaying, and throws a stack of blankets at Junsu and Changmin's sleeping heads.

 

"Cat hair," Yoochun complains with a sneeze but curls up anyway.

 

Yunho laughs softly, peeling Junsu off the glass table and making a little Junsu burrito on the fuzzy white rug.

 

He's more careful with Changmin, wrapping the softest blanket around Changmin's shoulders and gently tugging him to the floor.

 

One of Changmin's legs pokes out of the blanket, effectively tripping Yunho.

 

Yunho lands with a soft thud, the bruises on his ass and hip protesting, and then Changmin is rolling into him, covering them both with his blanket.

 

"Do you know how long I waited, you asshole," Changmin sighs, still asleep.

 

"For what?" Yunho yawns, two seconds away from passing out.

 

"For you."

 

*

 

Both agencies announce a joint charity project on the same morning and now everyone knows.

 

And apparently, not everyone's happy.

 

*

 

 

Minho's sulking in the elevator.

 

Hesitant, Yunho steps in and presses the button for his floor, then smiles politely. "Hey, what's up."

 

Minho's leaning against one side, scowling. "You're a dick."

 

He shuffles out of the elevator without further comment.

 

Yunho frowns.

 

*

 

Kyuhyun and Ryeowook are playing their DSes outside of the studio.

 

Yunho's on alert the moment he spots them. He doesn't even fucking know why he's on alert or why his feet are trying to lead him away and why he sort of wants to duck behind the nearest potted plant, but Kyu spots him and tosses a beanie at him, grumbling, "YOU."

 

"Hyung," Ryeowook corrects him, waving his stylus in apology. "He meant to say hyung."

 

Kyu frowns. "I meant to say fuck you."

 

Ryeowook winces. "Hyung. Fuck you, _hyung_."

 

Kyu nods. "Yeah, okay. Fuck you, hyung."

 

*

 

Yunho doesn't know what to do.

 

Everyone's pissed off, except for the fans, who keep hanging really bizarre yunjae banners everywhere.

 

Jaejoong and Yoochun are busy laughing about it and Junsu's busy changing his hair color twice in one week. Changmin's off filming something or other, so busy he can't reply to a single fucking text message Yunho has sent him.

 

Yunho just... really doesn't understand.

 

Nothing makes sense.

 

Until Junsu drops by, armed with bleach and mint dye.

 

"Nope," Yunho says but lets him in.

 

Junsu tucks the dye back into his jacket mournfully. He takes a moment to look around, then makes a face. "Your apartment's really... blue."

 

Yunho's lips quirk.

 

"Okay," Junsu chirps, "where's the stuff you said I could borrow?"

 

Yunho grabs a bottle of water and secretly stashes the bleach kit where Junsu can't reach it. "Should be in Changmin's room."

 

Junsu pauses. "What?"

 

Yunho blinks. "Changmin's room? Take a left by the bathroom."

 

Junsu's not moving, expression skeptical. "You... have two bedrooms?"

 

Yunho blinks some more. "How... many are we supposed to have?"

 

Junsu's cheeks are pink. "One?"

 

Yunho chokes on his water.

 

Wide-eyed, Junsu rushes to help pat him on the back, verbal diarrhea in full effect, "I just... I thought you were _together_ -together, because, seriously, why else would he stay, and oh my god, I just always thought—he always said—wanted—oh my god."

 

Coughing violently, Yunho manages a raspy, "What?"

 

"I... uh," Junsu says, looking pained, "you guys still live together, so I... assumed." He grabs his head, wailing dramatically, "Oh my god, he's going to kill me."

  

*

 

"I figured it out when he stayed," Jaejoong yawns, phone barely sustaining the signal. "We all knew?" There's a sleepy pause. "Except you, I guess." A soft laugh. "Wow."

 

*

 

Yoochun just stares.

 

"Are you fucking serious?"

 

Yunho slumps into the seat, Yoochun's car a warm refuge. "Shit."

 

"How did you not..." Yoochun starts. "I thought you've been fucking for the last ten years." He closes his mouth, then makes a face and just asks, " _Seriously_?"

 

"I'm straight," Yunho offers weakly, tugging on his seat-belt. " _We're_ straight."

 

"Oh, right," Yoochun says and steps on the gas, "I keep forgetting you're an idiot." He throws a lopsided grin Yunho's way and adds, "Wow."

 

Yunho gives him a miserable look.

 

"Look," Yoochun tries again, focusing on the traffic, "it's not even about that. It's about Changmin. He doesn't share."

 

Yunho wants to ask but he's burning up, with shame and concern and what feels suspiciously like anticipation.

 

Yoochun looks sorry he ever opened his mouth but continues calmly, "It was just the two of you for years, you know? He's used to you _only_ looking at him, only touching _him_ —" He pauses to sigh. "I'm writing fanfiction right now, shit."

 

Yunho should smile or laugh or joke but he can't. He wants to melt through the seat and the car and the asphalt beneath. "That's... too immature."

 

"He's the baby," Yoochun shrugs.

 

"He's..." Yunho starts defensively then stops.

 

Changmin has been everything except a baby. A partner, an equal, the proverbial nagging wife, an entire self-contained support system, all for Yunho.

 

He's been everything.

 

He _is_ everything.

 

Fuck.

 

Yunho needs to fix this.

 

"Take me home."

  

*

 

 

When Yunho gets home, Changmin's door is locked.

 

Junsu's voice is muffled on the other side. "We're writing ballads, go away."

 

Yunho frowns.

 

What the hell is Junsu doing here. In Changmin's room. With the door locked.

 

Especially now that Junsu's all experienced kissing men and whatnot.

 

Yunho almost kicks the door in but that would be ridiculous.

 

So instead he just stays up, picking out and over-analyzing every little noise until Junsu leaves.

 

Which is marginally less ridiculous.

 

*

 

He tries to catch Changmin a couple of days later, but Changmin just zips by him, throwing a careless, "Jaejoong's gonna cook for me today, so see ya tomorrow."

 

*

 

Yunho doesn't see him ~tomorrow.

 

Or the day after. He doesn't see Changmin for approximately four days, seven hours, eleven, twelve, thirteen minutes.

 

"Yeah, he's here," Yoochun says into the phone. "There's a j-rock song we're trying to—"

 

Yunho hangs up.

 

*

 

The charity concert's coming up and the next group practice is scheduled to start in a few minutes.

 

It's not an official collaboration or a reunion or anything permanent, really, but Yunho wants it to be perfect.

 

He wants the stage to feel... right.

 

He hasn't slipped back into the leader role, mostly because it doesn't feel okay. The five of them are all so fundamentally different now that trying to coral everyone would create resentment and tension and...

 

Yunho's tired.

 

He's so tired and he misses the simplicity of being a duo. Of knowing Changmin has his back, no matter what. Of knowing he has Changmin, always. He misses the stability and the safety of co-dependence and wow, fuck.

 

This is so unhealthy.

 

He looks around, grateful he's the first to arrive, and scrubs at his face.

 

Casually, he drops his stuff on a corner bench and stretches in front of a mirror.

 

"Do you _live_ here?" Changmin grumbles, tossing his bag atop Yunho's.

 

Yunho looks up, bent awkwardly. "What happened to your hair."

 

Flushed, Changmin smooths down an unruly pink streak. "Junsu."

 

Yunho smiles, uncurling from his pose and rising. "Wanna start?"

 

Changmin watches him for a long moment. "Nah, let's wait for everyone."

 

Raising his arms above his head and stretching, Yunho grins. "Oh, _now_ you're cool with waiting."

 

Changmin's face darkens. "I'm very good at waiting."

 

Yunho glances at their reflections in the mirror, bending one elbow in a long stretch. "Sure. That's why you burn your mouth whenever we have pizza."

 

In the mirror, Changmin's reflection steps closer to Yunho's.

 

"You have no idea," he says in a way that makes Yunho break out in goosebumps, "how patient I am."

 

Yunho should stop this.

 

But he says, jokingly, "Yeah. You've been waiting for me forever, apparently."

 

Changmin doesn't seem surprised. He doesn't smile.

 

"Yunho," he says, expression suddenly so fucking vulnerable Yunho wants to bail, "I've been waiting for so long I don't even know what I'm waiting for anymore."

 

Yunho knows.

 

"You never asked me why I stayed," Changmin says quietly. "You should ask—"

 

Yunho holds up a hand.

 

Changmin deflates.

 

Junsu's loud screeching is growing in intensity, so the rest of the guys are probably close.

 

Yunho gathers his wits and tugs on the pink strand in Changmin's hair.

 

"The only thing I'll ask you," he tells him softly just as Yoochun steps through the door, "is to stay again."

 

 

*

 

Changmin high-fives him on stage.

 

Their fingers twine together, and then Changmin is two steps away, belting out a sustained note, drenched in sweat.

 

Junsu's voice joins in a moment later.

 

Jaejoong is preparing for his part, both hands gripping the mic as Yoochun raps, lost in the lyrics.

 

The stadium is a dark ocean of red and white and blue and colors Yunho's never seen before and his eyes burn for a moment, but then he catches a glimpse of Changmin's face, flushed with music and happiness.

 

Their eyes lock and Changmin's voice hitches a little, but then he's smiling boyishly and Yunho feels his chest pulse with every kind of emotion.

 

Yoochun rolls his eyes a little, takes a deep breath, and launches into an English verse.

 

Junsu and Jaejoong hide smiles behind their hands, joining in.

 

Yunho waits for his cue and then his voice blends with theirs, carried by a winding melody.

 

Changmin's fingers wrap around Yunho's belt loop, drawing him close.

 

Yunho hits the last note perfectly.

 

It's not a reunion.

 

But it's a start.


End file.
